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“ Why am I paired up with this loser?" Normally this would be a question, but with Chloe Bourgeois, it's an announcement . Most heads in the room turn her way, and she weathers the attention with experience.
"It's not like you're a delight to work with either, Chloé." grumbles her nonplussed partner. Chloé whips sideways to glare at him.
"Mademoiselle Bourgeois," Her sharp retort is cut short by Mme. Mendeleiev before it can even start, "I won't allow you to work with Sabrina on every assignment. Cooperating with different people is an important life skill you'll use often– and you could stand to brush up on it." their teacher chides.
Nathaniel stifles a snicker in his shoulder, but he doesn't care to do it very well. Chloé stares daggers in his face.
"Is something funny?" she snaps.
Nathaniel corrals his features into an impassive look and shrugs, turning his face away, but Chloé is just fine with staring daggers into the back of his head.
"Sit down, Chloé, or it's to the Principal's Office." Mendeleiev threatens.
Visibly indignant, Chloé huffs and drops onto her assigned stool. She stops burning holes in Nathaniel– for now.
"Now, as you know, today is our frog dissection lab. You are expected to follow the instructions outlined in the course book and govern yourselves, but if you have any questions you are free to ask me. Does anyone have questions for me before we begin?" Mendeleiev looks once around the room. "No? Then get started. You have until the end of the period."
Max and Nino simply nod and set to work, but they are the only ones; the rest of the class only looks down at the specimen, then at their partner, then back.
They'd had all week to prepare for this, but it's different seeing the actual frog belly-up on the table, lifeless.
Mylène gazes down at the poor creature and supposes the only thing worse than killing it for this purpose would be to not complete the assignment after the fact– that would render its death meaningless. With a sigh, she pulls her blue spandex gloves on and, after frowning guiltily at it for a full minute, asks her partner to fetch her tablet and open their virtual course book to the appropriate pages.
Juleka nods stiffly and does what's asked of her. She's not particularly squeamish about frogs, but a dead frog is new to her. She gladly allows Mylène to take the lead on this one.
"If you read me the instructions, I can handle the dissection– if you like." Mylène offers.
"Are y'sure?" Juleka mumbles, eyes brightened by surprise.
"Yeah," Mylène assures her with a kind smile, "Believe it or not, this isn't my first time doing something like this."
"Ohh," Juleka leans a little closer. "…What'd you do before? If y'don't mind me asking."
"Here: read the first step and I'll tell you as we go, okay?"
"Okay,"
A little ways ahead, in the column over, Alya spies the two from over her shoulder. "I smell something interesting," she says to herself.
"Is it frog carcass?"
Alya looks over at her partner, Alix, who leans against the lab table lethargically with her head in her hand. "What?"
"I mean it must be frog carcass, because there's nothing else to smell around here. Right?" Alix asks, looking at Alya pointedly. But when she searches her partner's eyes, Alya avoids her gaze. Alix tilts her head to meet it again. "Right?"
Huffing softly through her nose, Alya rolls her eyes round, raising the eyebrows blithely. She smiles. "Oh, relax. I'm not a child, I can handle some unsatisfied curiosity… for a little while."
"Alya," Alix says, staring right into Alya's eyes without any of her partner's levity, "if you leave this table, I'll–"
"C'mon, Alix–"
"No."
"I am physically incapable of not following my nose."
"And I'm severely allergic to troublesome situations. I could die."
Alya groans. "Alright," she spies Mme. Mendeleiev from the corner of her eye, occupied with typing something on her personal computer but still sharp as always. She purses her lips. "At least let me record."
Alix scrunches up her nose. "Ignoring the fact that you're not allowed to have your phone out: what for?"
"I don't know about you," Alya says as she surreptitiously takes her phone from her pocket, "but I only plan on doing this once in my life. I don't want to let this event fade into obscurity."
"I personally wouldn't mind that."
"When you're eighty and missing your collége days, you'll thank me."
At the table just ahead, Nino cuts a line up the frog's chest with his scissors, parting the slick skin easily and folding it back to expose the jigsaw inside. He puts some pins in the skin to hold it back.
"Dude," he says in-between instructions, "Is it weird that this makes me want frog legs?"
Max, after taking his time referring to their book, glances at their study subject and tilts his head in consideration. "I don't think so," he responds, unaffected, "I think I could go for some myself, now that you mention it." He then gestures to a thin web-like structure over the heart. "We must remove this before proceeding."
Nino sets about cutting the tissue away. "Like, it's never been my favorite thing, but I just have this craving all of a sudden."
"It's understandable," Max agrees, "we haven't had lunch yet and the human stomach is susceptible to suggestion."
Nino bobs his head a time and a half. He glances at the diagram of a split and sectioned frog in their textbook before making a cut that seems to inspire another question. "You know, I've heard Americans use them in stews, but that seems like it would be— "
"Nino," a thick voice begs from astride their lab table, "could you pretty please talk about something else?"
Nino looks up and across the room to see Marinette, one hand near her mouth and the other over her stomach, looking a little distressed.
Marinette feels her stomach churn just glancing at her open frog, she doesn't need to hear the two of them talk about eating any part of it. It's not like she doesn't like frog legs, but the cooked dish is very different than the pillowy tissue of raw organs, and thinking about eating frog at all while looking at one's innards doesn't help at all.
She's actually surprised by how much it upsets her; she never would have thought she'd have a sensitive stomach, but this combination is proving her wrong. An actual gag hits as she catches a glimpse of Max and Nino's progress, some stringy yellow-orange matter set aside outside of the animal, and she has to shut her eyes.
Nino blinks in surprise to see the state she's in. "Oh, sorry 'Nette," he apologizes sincerely, "didn't mean to wind you sideways. We'll cool it." He then turns back to his partner. "What's next, man?"
"The liver," Max states clearly. "We have to remove it carefully, there may be leftover bile in it."
"Okay, give me a hand, will ya? Hold that back for me so I can cut under here."
Marinette forces herself to turn away from Nino and Max as they dig deeper into the frog's chest. Eyes closed, she takes deep breaths, summoning a sense of stability so she doesn't throw up. When she opens her eyes, all that is undone.
Adrien is holding up a string of that fatty yellow-orange stuff in his tweezers at eye level. His eyes are big and round, mouth slightly ajar, and the hand holding the tweezers subtly shakes. The nerves from seeing her crush and seeing whatever that is suspended too close to her for comfort brings the queasiness back. Then, in his excitement, he turns toward the rest of the classroom, hand hovering under it like it's a noodle, like it's food, searching other tables and faces and saying nothing. Marinette takes a step back.
"Adrien," she manages, voice light and airy, like she's feeling faint, "what— what are you doing?"
Adrien looks at her, and his expression is unreadable. He turns himself toward her and, seeing her shiver, places the yellow spaghetti organ down on the table. He doesn't look away from the frog. "I don't know, it's just… it's horrible, but I can't look away. There's something so interesting about it," His gloved finger dares to approach the creature's heart, but he doesn't have the nerve to touch it. "Are you seeing this?"
"Yeah," she turns away to say under her breath miserably, "I wish I wasn't."
"What was that, Marinette?"
"Oh nothing, nothing! Just… keep doing what you're doing." Every word is ground out with a smile that hurts.
Adrien beams at her, and it's just so unfair. Marinette's palms grow damp as she wonders how she's going to make it through this lab without throwing up on her crush's shoes.
"I'm not so sure I can do this," Ivan admits suddenly from just behind them, wilting as he piteously watches the corpse on the table. His partner is not so perturbed.
"Don't worry, big guy," Kim pats his back comfortingly, "I'll handle all the cutting, you can just read the instructions from the book."
Ivan nods, but he throws a glance at the diagrams with just as much trepidation.
"Is there a problem here?"
Marinette, Adrien, Kim, and Ivan each look to their teacher now standing in the center aisle, hovering between their tables. She raises an eyebrow as her gaze scans each student.
"Unfortunately, Mme. Mendeleiev," Marinette nods. "Ivan's not feeling too well." She considers admitting her own discomfort, but the thought of backing out of a shared project with Adrien is enough to make her stubbornly keep it to herself.
Mendeleiev turns to the boy. "Is this true, Ivan?"
"Yes." Ivan admits sheepishly.
"Hmm," Mendeleiev studies them. "I suppose I can excuse you from the dissection if it's really bothering you. But you'll still have to turn in the worksheet. I suggest you make markings in your textbook to show your participation."
"And you, Adrien? Marinette?" Mendeleiev raises an uncertain eyebrow at the boy, and then his partner. "Will you be okay to finish the dissection portion of the lab?"
Adrien nods, albeit slowly. "I'll be fine."
Marinette can't summon the words all of a sudden, so she just nods a couple times fast.
"Okay. Then you two and Kim," Mendeleiev gestures from Marinette and Adrien to the other boy, "will be a group from this point forward. You'll each be required to turn in your assigned frog, though."
"Yes ma'am." the boys chime. Kim salutes, Adrien nods once more.
That matter settled, Ms. Mendeleiev figures that while she's up, she might as well scrutinize the other pairs' dissections. Rose and Sabrina, she'd seen on her way over, were faring well, though Rose kept frowning each time her partner extracted something and Sabrina was struggling to be mindful of her partner's feelings on the dissection while also completing the assignment as stipulated. In great contrast, a table behind them, Max and Nino were making effortless progress as a team.
Continuing to walk down the length of the room from Marinette and Adrien's table, she gives a nod to Alya and Alix, spares an approving hum for Mylène and Juleka's work, then stops to stare down her long nose at Nathaniel and Chloé and their untouched specimen.
"Is there a reason why the two of you haven't started the lab yet?" she asks the final pair.
Chloé narrows her eyes. "I saw you give Bruel a pass on the lab. I want one too."
"Are you feeling sick or otherwise incapable of completing the task?" Mendeleiev asks, though she doesn't say it like much of a question.
Chloe blinks and starts coughing into her fist, imitating a hoarse throat. "Ah–" cough , "– yes, I'm feeling too sick. Call Daddy and tell him I need to go home."
Mme. Mendeleiev leans forward just slightly. "If you're going to try duping me, I'd recommend thinking it through better, Mlle. Bourgeois." She straightens. "Now I won't allow you exemption from the lab, but I can offer you detention for attempting to lie to your teacher."
"Tch," Chloé crosses her arms over her chest, "I'm good, thanks."
"I expect you to complete the assignment then."
"I'm not touching that thing. It's utterly gross."
"It's that or the Principal's office," Mendeleiev says with finality, not about to go back and forth with the girl, and turns to the boy. "And what about you?"
Nathaniel looks up at his teacher and shrugs. "If she's not doing anything, neither am I," he casts a long look at the frog. "Besides, it… is kind of gross."
"Are you two aware that failure to complete the assigned worksheet– with proof of participation– may drop your grades by a letter?" Mendeleiev asks.
"Wha– how much is this weighed?"
"I warned you all at the beginning of the week. A fifth of your biology credits for this quarter are fulfilled by this unit, and the dissection lab accounts for a third of that. For a high-performing student, this wouldn't be horrible to miss, but you are not high-performing students."
"Harsh."
Mendeleiev answers, "I'm just trying to help you."
At this, Chloé and Nathaniel look down. Then they look at each other. They roll their eyes.
"I guess we should try to do this." Nathaniel suggests first.
"Whatever," Chloé answers, "Don't think this means anything, I'm just cooperating until Daddy wraps up his important meeting or whatever."
Mendeleiev eyes the children. "If you need," she caves, wanting them to do well, "you can ask for some guidance from a classmate. There's an important line of communication I have to watch this period, so I can't step away from my desk, but you are allowed to corroborate with one of the groups immediately next to you."
Nathaniel and Chloé glance at the groups immediately next to them. Neither seems like an amazing option.
Mme. Mendeleiev leaves the duo with that to return to the head of the classroom, where her desk is located, and check her messages. She sits down and types something on her laptop. She doesn't do this long before she's prompted to stand up again.
"Attention, class," everyone pauses to direct their attention to where Mme. Mendeleiev stands with her hands clasped. "I have some pertinent business to attend to in another room. I won't be gone the entire period, but until I come back, I'm putting Alya in charge."
"wHY is this one in charge?" Chloé immediately springs from her seat. She points a disdainful finger down at the girl a seat in front of her and Alya resists the powerful urge to turn around and bend the finger backwards.
Mendeleiev answers the question bluntly. "Alya has shown herself to be a focused, responsible, and ethical scientist. And she had the highest score on the anatomy lesson that preceded this lab. I trust her to report on your behavior honestly and be able to answer most of your questions."
Chloé pouts and sits back down.
"I won't be gone that long, just sit tight and don't do anything foolish."
Then she grabs her lanyard and steps out the door.
The first person to leave their seat, ironically un-ironically, is Alya. She slides over Mylène and Juleka's table with her phone raised. "I couldn't help but overhear you've done this before?" she grins.
"Well, something like it." Mylène blinks at the phone.
"What's the story? It's not exactly what you'd call a conventional task, you know what I mean?"
"Hey, Miss Focused and Responsible ," Alix calls from her seat, "shouldn't you help me finish this?"
"It's pretty much self-explanatory at this point, isn't it?" Alya says back.
"No, it isn't."
"You sure?"
"We literally need a book to explain it to us. It's by definition not self-explanatory."
Alya's shoulders fall a little. She bites her lip and makes a concession. "Okay, let me just document everyone's projects and then I'll come help you finish, I swear." She murmurs to Mylène over her shoulder, "I'll get the story later."
"You know what, fuck it," Alix kicks her feet up on the lab table and tilts her stool back, hands clasping behind her head. "I can take a break."
Alya takes her phone camera and records a little bit of Mylène and Juleka's work, asking some quick questions and making commentary before moving on to Ivan and Kim's table. She does the same thing here, and at Rosa and Sabrina's table, too. When she arrives at Max and Nino's table,
"Woah," she says, "nice work. You guys probably don't have any questions for me, huh?"
"You think we did good?" Nino asks, smiling and trying not to preen.
"It looks better than in the book. It's actually so organized it's not disgusting."
"They are attractive cuts," Max admits with a nod of his head. "Some might even say appetizing."
"Who knew I could make dissection look good." Nino chuckles, nudging Max.
Alya softly purses her lips over the camera. "Babe, you make everything look good."
Rose coos and Nino flushes softly from the attention. Alya pauses the video and is mulling over whether or not to pull him in for a quick kiss when Alix breaks into her thoughts.
"If you just wanted to make goo-goo eyes at your boyfriend, you could have told me." she says, staring at them.
Alya arches an eyebrow at her. "That's not why I'm over here, but even if it was , would you have been any more okay with that?"
"I mean, no, but you could have told me."
"Hey, Chloé! Check this out," Out of nowhere Kim rushes over to Chloé and Nathaniel's table. Without asking, he pinches something between his fingers and sprinkles it over their frog.
"What are you doing?" Chloé demands, leaning away from the table. "What did you just do?"
"Watch!"
Despite not really wanting to, Chloe and Nathaniel watch for whatever it is Kim is expecting. After a few seconds, the frog begins twitching— lively.
"Ew! Ew! Ew!" Chloé backs away so fast her chair whines against the floor and falls over. She nearly trips over it and Nathaniel while hopping away from the table and flapping her hands. "Get it away from me!"
Kim bursts out laughing and sprinkles more stuff on the specimen. "Wow! I heard salt was supposed to make'em move, but this is crazy!" He hastily reaches into his hoodie and pulls out another salt packet like the ones offered in the school cafeteria. "I bet if I add more it'll jump!"
Chloe shrieks. "No no no no no!" She and Nathaniel wordlessly agree to abandon the table and their lab. Nathaniel retreats toward Mylène and Juleka, hovering in the awkward space between their stations, while Chloé runs to the front of the room to hide behind Sabrina, who, seeing her distress, instantly coos and pets her hair. Rose extends some consolation too, which Chloé attempts to not be comforted by. She eventually swats them both away and huffs, refusing to look as ridiculous as she feels.
Kim has the entire class's attention by now. Only Alix and Ivan mind their business in their seats. Alya, Max, and Nino easily move toward the commotion, Alya leading the way with her phone held up, recording again. As they settle at the side of the table, their classmates stop a safe distance away to watch what's happening from over their shoulders.
"Dude, what?" Nino says when sees the frog convulsing on the slate. He leans forward to squint at it. "Gnarly… Hey, Adrien, bro," he calls over his shoulder, waving his best bud over, "come check this out."
Adrien, who had been hesitant to go beyond where Nathaniel had retreated by Ivan's table, reaches a resolution. He makes his way over to stand by Nino. As soon as he sees the frog's legs dancing, his eyes go wide and bright with something like fascination.
"Oh— Marinette," Adrien remembers her, and still not noticing that she's feeling uneasy entreats, "Come take a look at this!" Unable— or perhaps just unwilling— to turn down the invitation, Marinette gulps and awkwardly stalks her way over to Chloé's repopulated table. Within mere seconds of arriving there her stomach rolls and bile is sitting in the back of her throat.
Adrien smiles across the table. Marinette looks away to share a glance with Alya, and her best friend just looks amused at her. She parts her lips to say something but Marinette shakes her head before she can start, already knowing what it's going to be.
"Don't. I'm fine, really!" she whispers. Alya just rolls her eyes with a secret grin, knowing where this is headed but willing to let Marinette see it through. She's gotta learn her lesson somehow.
"Can I touch it?" They overhear Adrien's small voice and turn towards the boys at the table.
"Don't touch it, man—"
"Yeah, I wanna see what happens!"
"Actually, it's likely nothing will result."
"Just don't, dude."
"Yeah, I have to draw the line there," Alya says, pocketing her phone; she's gotten sufficient damnable evidence. "It's bad enough you managed to give the frog a seizure after it was already dead. I can't condone any further experimentation on it. That would just be…" the word 'sick' comes to mind, but a look at Marinette shows the girl one suggestion away from hurling, "…really messed up."
"Aw, I thought you were going to be the fun teacher!" Kim whines.
Alya's hands go to her hips. "One: I'm not a teacher. Two: tormenting a dead animal is not fun, it's just cruel."
Unable to ignore the interesting turn in conversation, Alix cracks an eye open. She glances over her shoulder at the table behind her to see if she can catch a glimpse of the hubbub without getting out of her seat, but Kim's ass crowds her view. She flinches back, setting her stool down, and rises to swing around the group to an opening on the table's far side.
She plants her hands against the slate and leans forward, watching the frog's persistent convulsions. "Whoa, sick. "
Immediately, Marinette's hand flies to her mouth and she darts off. Shortly after, a wretch sounds in a distant corner of the classroom.
"Really, Alix?"
"What? What did I say?"
Alya just shakes her head at her partner. Couldn't she see the girl was sick? Maybe she gave Marinette's stomach more credit than that.
"Kim," Rose finally approaches the table, breaking through the crowd. "You should apologize to Nathaniel and Chloé. You interrupted their lab and really upset them."
A glance at the front of the room shows a pricklier-than-usual Chloé frowning deeply at a disheveled Marinette. Not too far from them Nathaniel inches slowly toward the open door, wondering if anyone will remember he was ever in the classroom to begin with.
"What about Marinette?" Kim asks, a hand to his chin. Likely, he really doesn't know if he's responsible for her discomfort or not.
"Oh, she was sick since the beginning," Rose smiles sweetly, "she really has herself to blame for not taking proper care. But that's besides the point."
"What?" Steadily, Adrien's face begins to look distraught. He feels terrible; how could he not notice his partner was in a bad way? All this time? And she even tried to smile for his sake!
"There, there, buddy," Nino pats his back a couple times.
"Ah, well," Kim waves off Rose's accusation, "I'm just having a bit of fun. Besides, it's cool! And totally science related, right, Max?"
"Well, it has to be to some capacity, given what science is," Max shrugs a shoulder. He looks up. "Markov?"
Markov twirls over their heads, happy to quickly research and provide the answer. "Despite the frog being dead, its muscles still contain a few living cells that can respond to stimuli," he announces. "Sodium ions present in the salt behave like signals from the brain and cause the frog's nerves to fire. When there is still a source of energy left in the cells, the muscles can contract in response to the signal.”
"Meaning…?"
Markov chuckles good naturedly at the simple children. "In other words, the salt simulates tiny electric shocks to the nerves."
"Oh,"
"Okay, I can see that,"
"You see, Kim," Alix snickers, "you electrocuted a dead frog."
"So?"
"That's sick—" Marinette heaves again, "—I mean, unethical," too late. "You're gonna get so many points docked for that."
"You still won't be able to get a higher score than me," Kim puffs his chest out with a cocky grin.
"Yeah we'll see—"
"What's going on here?"
At the sound of Mme. Mendeleiev's voice, the children scatter. Everyone is in their assigned seat within two seconds— literally. Well, everyone but Marinette.
"Alya," Mendeleiev addresses her trusted student, "did something happen while I was gone?"
The class stares. Alya doesn't lie, it's a known fact. Will she tell Mendeleiev the truth?
"Ma'am," Alya sees the stares and tries not to smirk; they don't know about the clever lies she's told to protect her alter ego. "I can honestly report that nothing of consequence happened while you were out," she glances at the waste bin by the door with her best friend's face hidden in it, easily missed. "Also, Marinette's sick."
Mendeleiev quickly turns around to see Marinette hunched over the bin tucked by the door. She then turns back around to carefully scrutinize the face of each child. But finding no evidence of any harm, danger, or trouble (even Chloé musters an expression other than a scowl) she does something like a shrug. "I suppose that will be fine," She takes a seat at her desk, ready to give her students her undivided attention now that her business has been handled. "As you were."
In response, Marinette dry heaves and groans miserably into the trash. Mendeleiev turns to her. "And someone please take Mlle. Dupain-Cheng to the nurse's."